


Did You Miss Me?

by OurLadyOnTheOtherSide



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Reunion, Slow Burn, Smut, fix-it for 4B, split personality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-03-25 21:57:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13843848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OurLadyOnTheOtherSide/pseuds/OurLadyOnTheOtherSide
Summary: The Riddler is back, and whether or not Ed likes it, his darker side is after someone he thought he'd put in his past: Oswald.





	1. Midnight Masquerade

The masquerade was not Oswald’s idea. He hadn’t even wanted to go in the first place. It was some Wayne event and Oswald wasn’t a fan of social outings in the first place. So he stands in the corner of the room, fidgets with his mask, and sips his champagne. He glares at everyone around him, too many people talking about inane things. The air has a strong smell of perfume and cologne- too many people trying too hard. He thinks he should just go home, all he needed was to make an appearance anyway, with how things have been going lately he needed to go out and show he wasn’t as crazy or weird as everyone thought. He supposes he should be making the most out of this situation, talking to people, making connections, seeing what he can find out and how he can use that information to his advantage. But he can’t bring himself to talk to anyone here.

Oswald is about halfway through his champagne and almost to the decision of leaving once he finishes his drink when he sees a flash of green in his peripheral. His heart leaps, the familiar color scorched into his memories. But it can’t be, it’s not the same shade, not as shiny. And anyway why _would_ it be? It’s illogical.  Ed may have been missing ever since their confrontation, but it was improbable he was _here,_ right? Oswald shakes his head and gulps down the rest of his champagne, finding an empty table to leave the glass on. He straightens out his jacket and starts to head toward the door when he sees another flash of green. Oswald’s head darts around. Surely there can’t be more than one person at this event wearing _green_ of that shade.

That’s when he sees him. It’s definitely Ed. Even behind the elaborate mask Oswald can still determine from the neatly done brown hair and the smirk he wears, not to mention the green suit, that its undoubtedly him. But why would he be here? And why would he even try and catch Oswald’s attention. Because that had been his intention, he could have avoided Oswald all night, he was so close to leaving anyway. But Ed had deliberately made the green of his suit stand out to him, made sure Oswald would see him. _Why?_  

Ed jerks his head, _follow me,_ and then disappears into the crowd, heading off in the direction of one of the rooms in the estate the masquerade was being held in. He loses sight of Ed in the crowd, too many people dancing to whatever is playing at the moment. Oswald doesn’t know, he’s blocked out all sound. Not on purpose, his heart is simply beating too fast for him to hear anything other than the incessant pounding. Ed catches his attention again, right before he’s walking into one of the rooms.

Oswald hesitates outside of it. Should he go in? What is he expecting out of this encounter? Is there something he wishes to gain? And what does Ed want? Surely there is a reason for it, a reason for why now and why tonight. Does Ed plan to trap him, trick him, kill him? No, surely Ed has not regained his intelligence, not so quickly. Surely this is a plan that normal, dumb old, Ed Nygma has set up. Oswald is risking nothing by going into this room. He’ll just talk to him, see what Ed had planned, and then laugh about how it was doomed to fail from the start. He’ll humor him for a moment, and then rub it in his face even more that he has lost his ability to plan anything intricately enough to actually work.

Oswald enters the room.

What he finds is a small space, darkly lit, a record playing a soft song. This room must be soundproof, because Oswald can’t hear the music and chatter from outside this space once the door closes. He barely hears the lock turn, doesn’t have enough time to spin around before arms encircle him. Ed stands behind him, pressing him close to his chest, one arm around Oswald’s middle while the other is grasping Oswald’s wrist. He hadn’t had time to turn around but he did have enough time to pull the blade from his cane and now Ed is holding the wrist of the hand that holds it. Ed breathes in, deeply, and then sighs.

“Oh how I’ve missed you.” He says. Ed’s voice is low, different. “Did you miss me?”

Oswald has spent months trying to get over how he felt about Ed and it all comes back in a rush. He tries to figure out what to say, what to do in this situation, but Ed’s hands are on him and he’s pressed so close to him and Ed just _smelled_ him and he can’t think straight.

Oswald doesn’t answer the question even though he wants to tell him, _“Yes.”_

“I was beginning to think you’d gotten rid of me forever, that that _idiot_ would never let me out.” Ed growls.

“E- Ed?” Oswald stutters, confused.

He can feel the shake of Ed’s head behind him, “Not right now.”

Oswald’s brow furrows, and then it clicks, he understands, “Riddler?”

“Mmm.” Ed nearly moans as he takes the blade easily from Oswald’s hand, throws it and the cane into the dark somewhere, and leaves both his hands free to touch, “Say that again.”

“I don’t understand.” Oswald gasps as Ed’s hands unbutton his jacket and then one of his hands untucks his dress shirt to slip under and touch his skin. “This isn’t like you.”

“This isn’t like _him_.” Ed corrects, bending down to be close enough that Oswald can feel his breath on his neck.

“I’d been reaching out to you for _months,_ Oswald. _He_ kept pushing me down, kept repressing me. I got _so close_ to coming out, to breaking free, to getting him to accept that I am a part of him. But my time as an icicle set me back.” Ed explains.

“You’re Ed’s darkest urges manifested.” Oswald connects, “ _Fascinating._ ”

“Isn’t it just?” Ed asks. “He’s confused, Ozzie, he doesn’t know what he wants.”

“But you do?” Oswald inquires. He isn’t sure where this evening is going, but Ed’s hands are on him and he can’t think straight and now Ed is nibbling at his ear and Oswald has to suppress a moan.

“I know _exactly_ what I want.” Ed whispers one hand reaching to wrap around Oswald’s neck. He panics for a moment, thinking that this was all just a trick, and then Ed tilts his head to the side and his lips make contact with Oswald’s skin for a moment before he says, “I want you.”

Oswald can’t suppress his moan this time.

Ed chuckles, plays with a nipple between his fingers, fists his other hand through Oswald’s hair. Oswald isn’t even sure he should be experiencing this level of pleasure, it feels like everything’s been turned up to the highest intensity, his skin is overly sensitive and he’s nearly coming apart and Ed has barely even done anything.

“The only question now is whether or not you still want me.” Ed says.

“ _Yes_.” It comes out as a moan and a sob, “I want you, Ed. Even still.”

Oswald can practically _hear_ his smirk. “Good.”

And then his hand disappear, his heat disappears, and Oswald turns around to find himself alone. He runs a hand through his hair, breathes deeply, and then tucks his shirt back in and buttons up his jacket. Oswald locates his blade and cane, composes himself, and then leaves the room. He swiftly makes an exit out of the party into the cold night air and Ed is nowhere in sight, no trace of him anywhere. When he gets home Oswald finds a note on his door that reads,

_I have so much planned for us. I want to take my time with you, Oswald._

_­- Nygma_


	2. Confused, Conflicted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re the only one who’s ever accepted the entirety of me. You’re the only one.”  
> “Ed-“   
> “Which is why I want to be your friend again, at the very least. If you’ll have me.”   
> “I have wanted nothing from you but your friendship since this whole mess began.”

Ed can feel hands on him, gripping his shoulders, touching and exploring, as he thrusts deeper into Oswald, eliciting a moan from the man beneath him. It would be nice if Ed hadn’t expressly told him before they started that he wasn’t to touch him. Ed loosens his grip on Oswald’s hips, stops his movements, and takes Oswald’s hands and pins them above his head.

“I thought I told you not to touch me.” Ed growls. He slips the knife from the nightstand into his hand and slices it lightly across Oswald’s skin as a punishment.

Oswald hisses, bucks his hips, breathes, “S-sorry.”

“And I thought I told you not to speak either.” Ed bites Oswald’s lip for emphasis. Oswald whines.

“Will you be good now?” Ed asks.

Oswald bites his lip and nods. Ed smiles, and then starts moving again. He thrusts into Oswald quickly, painfully, no longer caring about Oswald’s pleasure, only moving to satiate himself. Once he reaches his own climax it’s all over. Oswald looks at him in confusion as he gets up to throw the condom away before heading to the bathroom. It’s callous and rude but Ed doesn’t care. Oswald sighs in frustration.

 

Ed wakes up from his dream feeling conflicted. He sits up in bed and runs a hand through his hair. Another dream about Oswald. He’d been getting them a lot over the past week and they confused him. Oswald wasn’t a part of his life anymore, so why was he having these dreams. Especially of the sort they are.

“Oh, Eddie.” He hears himself say. Ed looks up to see himself. That annoying darker half of him that he’d once been connected to.

His other half, ‘Edward’ as he referred to him, is dressed in his normal Riddler suit. It makes Ed kind of miss it, long for the old days for a moment. But he’s spent so long being just Ed that at this point he’s become disconnected from ‘Edward’ and the Riddler persona. Even if he wanted to, he didn’t know how to reconnect. The last time he accepted his darkness he’d killed the love of his life. The last time he became the Riddler he’d shot his best friend. Those two things could not be replicated. And it’s not like he didn’t accept the darkness within him, he did. It was something else that was keeping him from being whole this time. And Ed couldn’t put a finger on what exactly it was.

“What?” Ed asks his other half.

“Even after all this time you’re still pushing me down. It’s your fault you can’t be the man you wish to be, the man you once were. You keep repressing me and all I stand for.” Edward says, hands folded and resting just below his chin.

Ed tilts his head, sighs, doesn’t even bother to talk to his other half. What feelings could he possibly be pushing down? Love for Oswald? The need to devour him, to take him, to be inside of him? No. Ed was straight, one hundred percent, he was sure of it. Even when he’d been the Riddler he was still straight. So that couldn’t possibly be it. And the rest of it? What could he possibly be repressing about himself that would prevent him from being the Riddler again? The Riddler was charisma and confidence and intelligent and Ed knew he could be all of those things once again, he wasn’t pushing it down. So what on _earth_ could be the problem?

“Fine. Ignore me.” Edward says, glaring at Ed. But there’s something behind his eyes, as if he knows something Ed doesn’t.

Ed shakes his head and gets up, moving to get dressed, when he sees a blue envelop on the floor by his door, as if it had been slipped under. He picks it up, finds it isn’t signed by anyone, and opens it.

***

Oswald had been waiting for Ed to return for an entire week. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be waiting for something, but it seemed like the safer thing. Let Ed come to him. The time gives him a chance to think, to wonder about what had happened. Oswald can still feel the ghost of Ed’s hands on him, can still feel himself pressed against the taller man. Sometimes he’ll fantasies about it. Sometimes his dreams will be filled with Ed, with the darker version of him that seems to be obsessed with Oswald. He’ll wake up with a longing in his throat and confusion in his mind.

Oswald had thought he’d gotten over his feelings for Ed, he’d thought he was past everything that had happened between them. But with that last meeting, with the intimate heat that Oswald can still feel when he closes his eyes… Oswald isn’t sure he got rid of his feelings after all. He sighs, runs his hands through his hair, over his face. Regardless of how he feels Oswald is conflicted. On the one hand he wants to follow his heart, to try at reconnecting. On the other, he knows he shouldn’t. His heart has already been broken too many times for his liking.

Even still, the thought is too tantalizing. Perhaps, then, instead of waiting for Ed to come to him, he should make the first move.

***

Edward had taken over the second they picked up the envelope. It was Oswald’s. Edward could tell it immediately. Inside was a letter asking to meet at the Iceberg Lounge, that Oswald wanted to talk. Edward wanted to go- needed to. But little _Eddie_ wasn’t ready yet, he wouldn’t understand, and he would likely ruin what his deeper self was trying to accomplish here. The thing about Ed was that he was too _scared_ to admit that his feelings ran deeper for the Penguin, and he wouldn’t take lightly to Edward trying to seduce Oswald. Ed didn’t see the bigger picture; if he could just accept himself, if he could just get back in Oswald’s good graces, they could _rule the world._

Edward holds control of their body and goes to the Iceberg Lounge on his own.

***

He gets to the club after everyone has already cleared out, as per Oswald’s instructions. Edward’s glittering green jacket sparkles under the low blue lights. There’s soft music playing through the speakers. Oswald is nowhere in sight and that worries Ed for just a moment.

“So which one of you am I talking to tonight?” Oswald asks, standing with his arms crossed at the doorway to his office.

“Who do you think?” Edward asks, a smirk on his lips. He doesn’t mean to speak the way he does, to look so smug, it’s just something that happens.

Oswald scoffs, “What? Ed doesn’t want to talk to me himself? Is this just _you_ then?”

Edward can see the thoughts behind his eyes, a skill he’d developed after all their time together. Edward could always see the gears turning in Oswald’s mind. Right now Edward can tell he’s thinking, _what if we get too into this. What if this goes too far and Ed wakes up next to me in panic. Are you telling me that I can have you but I can’t have all of you? That a part of you will always want nothing to do with me?_ Edward concedes that these thoughts are valid, but he doesn’t answer them, he’ll wait until Oswald actually speaks them before he does. Instead he answers the verbal questions.

“Ed isn’t ready yet. He’s still too in his own mind to understand that you’re not the enemy.” Edward tries to explain. He sits down on the couch in the middle of the room.

“So let me get this straight: you’re Ed’s darker half, and his darker half is, what?” Oswald prods. He wants to find out exactly what the difference between the two of them are, and why this “darker” half seems to be more conversational toward him.

Edward nods, “I am Ed’s darker half, or his _deeper_ thoughts and feelings, the things he keeps buried so far down even he isn’t aware of them. _Darker_ isn’t the right term here, Ed long ago accepted his capacity to kill and his more sinister tendencies. I am everything Ed thinks isn’t right, or what he thinks _society_ thinks isn’t right. And some of those things still terrify him.”

He’d been making progress, before Oswald froze them, Ed had been accepting everything he thought was wrong- not just the killing, but his own personal blocks against the natural fluidity of himself. Ed is a person who is always changing and growing and that extends to every part of him, he just never got the chance to fully realize that.

“You’re just what he’s too afraid to admit to himself.” The unspoken hope of Oswald’s sentence is, _he’s too afraid to admit he has feelings for me._

“There are a lot of things Ed doesn’t want to admit to himself.” The words are so quiet Edward isn’t sure Oswald even hears them.

Edward stands and takes a couple steps toward Oswald as he steers the conversation in a slightly different direction, “Things never had to go this far Oswald, things didn’t have to end up like _this_. The mess we made… the decisions you made…”

“What? Are you saying that it was something _I_ did? That if I hadn’t messed everything up we could have been happy?” Oswald spits the words.

It’s not that Oswald hasn’t thought about his part in all of this. He was a smart man, he’d thought about it all before, he knew that if he had just not been such a coward and told Ed his feelings earlier there was a chance things would have ended up differently. He knew that he’d gone too far in killing Isabella, he knew that following his heart in that particular direction was a mistake he could never take back. But Oswald would never admit any of this out loud, he could never admit the fault he knew was his. Because taking the blame for the whole situation meant admitting defeat and Oswald had never been one to lose.

Oswald shakes his head and continues speaking before Ed can say anything, “No. It’s like you yourself said: love is a weakness. If it hadn’t ended up this way I wouldn’t have learned that so thoroughly. Honestly, I should be _thanking_ you.”

“Ed is a _fool_.” Edward says quietly.

Oswald stops in the middle of his tirade. He’d been so sure in the words Ed said to him that night, he’d been so sure that the speech about love that Ed had made in that little apartment ran so deep even the Riddler would believe them. And why wouldn’t he? They were true, weren’t they? Oswald knew firsthand how tragic the results could be when you opened up your heart.

“What?” Oswald asks, too many thoughts flitting through his head to say anything else.

“Ed is afraid. That’s all. He doesn’t think that he can be me _and_ love someone. And it’s logical, everyone we’ve ever been with was either too fixated on the darkness or wanted nothing to do with it.” Edward explains, taking another step forward. Ed never could quite see that he didn’t have to be good _or_ evil, sometimes he could be a little of both.

“Except me.” Oswald says quietly and without thinking. He looks directly into Edward’s eyes now, the taller man close enough that they could touch.

“Exactly. Except you.” Edward whispers, “You’re the only one who’s ever accepted the entirety of me. You’re the only one.”

“Ed-“ Oswald starts.

“Which is why I want to be your friend again, at the very least. If you’ll have me.” Edward finishes.

Oswald sighs, places a hand on Edward’s cheek. “I have wanted nothing from you but your friendship since this whole mess began.”

Edward smiles, places his hand over the one Oswald has on his cheek and closes his eyes, leaning into the touch. _This_ is what Ed didn’t understand, what he always got wrong about his “darker” self. The Riddler didn’t want to hurt Oswald. All those sex dreams that Ed was having were his own sick perversion, the Riddler didn’t want any of it. He wanted these soft moments, he wanted Oswald’s hands and his words on his heart more than anything else. Edward opens his eyes and looks into Oswald’s blue ones, those eyes that at this moment hold only a deep longing to fix what was broken between them.

Edward drops the hand he has over Oswald’s and instead places both hands gently on Oswald’s chest. As he leans forward Oswald’s hand slips away from his cheek and Edward places a soft kiss to Oswald’s own cheek. When he pulls away Oswald’s eyes are closed and Edward takes this moment to slip away.

Edward has a lot of work to do if he wants to be whole again for their next encounter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part took a couple rewrites, but hope I got everything across the way I wanted. <3


	3. Two Hearts, Tethered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Despite everything. Despite the deaths of my parents, the betrayal, the pain, the near death experiences, I love this city. There’s too much history here for me not to.”  
> “I can bring a smile to your face, a tear to your eye, or a thought to your mind. But I can’t be seen. What am I?” Ed says, turning his head to look at Oswald now.  
> “Memories.” Oswald says, “The memories of us are scattered all across this city.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this part took a while to be published, but "it's not abandonment because I came back." <3

Oswald doesn’t get out much. It’s not on purpose, so much that it is an old habit left from his days in school. He doesn’t fear walking the streets of Gotham anymore. Or, he doesn’t feel _as_ afraid as he had when running from high school bullies. Of course, there is a certain degree of caution Oswald knows he should take, walking around unprotected holds a certain amount of danger for him- the ruler of Gotham’s underworld- but he does it anyway. Today he braves the outside world on his own, as if he wasn’t a criminal, but just another pedestrian.

The fresh air should do him good, clear his mind, allow him to think on everything that’s happened. Just two nights ago he’d spoken to Edward and it’s all he can think about. Oswald has never seen Ed like this, fractured, split in two. It’s a strange thing to witness. For the entirety of their friendship and falling out Oswald had always seen Ed for who he was, saw the heart of him. But now? Now he’s seeing a man torn between himself. And he wants to help. Oswald wants so desperately to do _something_ to help him re-conjoin. But how?  

It’s an unusually lovely day out, Oswald notes. It’s not often that the sun is shining in Gotham. Must be a sign; a new day. That’s the train of thought Oswald is on when he’s intercepted in the streets.

“Oswald?” There’s surprise in the voice, as if Ed can’t believe he’s seeing Oswald out and about. In truth, Ed is surprised that he doesn’t feel rage upon seeing the smaller man.

“Ed.” Oswald acknowledges, unsure of how to proceed, unsure how much of himself Ed is accepting of now.

The silence between them is deafening. People pass them by on the street but they remain still, just looking at each other. Neither of them know what to say nor do either of them want to leave. It’s as if there’s an invisible string between them, a tether that remains even still, and it’s keeping them here, on this street, despite their better judgment.

“How have you been, old friend?” Oswald asks, taking the first step to initiate a conversation.

Ed ponders what to tell him. _I’m fine, totally fine. It’s not like I can feel myself splitting, like I’m becoming less of myself. And did you know I’ve been dreaming of you?_ No. Ed couldn’t possibly expose this vulnerability, this lack of intelligence that still plagues him, to this man who is still his enemy. And he can’t even _mention_ the dreams, the fact that they’re getting less and less perverse and more and more like something he might want. Ed shakes his head to clear it.

“I’m fine, Oswald.” He meant the words to come out harsher instead of the soft reassurance his tone actually takes.

Oswald tries to not to laugh, tries not to reveal that he knows far more than Ed thinks, tries to wipe the smirk off his face that Ed probably thinks is smug satisfaction. And before he can shake his head, before Oswald can say, _“No you’re not, Ed. I know you, you’re definitely not fine,”_ he finds himself thinking of a different approach to this whole situation.

“Ed,” Oswald looks down at his shoes for a second before looking up at Ed with that soft gaze he sometimes has, that gaze that used to make Ed smile. Oswald looks him in the eye and hopes that if his words aren’t enough then Ed’s underlying emotions will be enough to convince him to agree to this, “I’d like to try and reconcile whatever happened between us. I’d like to be your friend again, if you’ll have me.”

Oswald is hoping the echo of Edward’s own words will spark his unconscious memory. Ed doesn’t realize it, but it works. On a conscious level Ed thinks about it, realizes that there’s still so much to say between them, so much to amend, and he realizes that he wants that. On some level he wants his best friend back. So he agrees, and they make plans, and when Oswald walks away Ed is left feeling lost, wondering why the bond between them remains unbroken, even still, despite his efforts to break it.

~~~

Ed enters the Iceberg Lounge that night with nerves shaking his core. He is unsure why, it’s not like speaking to Oswald is particularly hard. But he’d spent the day arguing with his other half, so perhaps his broken psyche was to blame for his anxiousness. His mind plays back the words thrown earlier, tries to analyze them even further, tries to make sense of his mixed emotions.

_“You can’t seriously stand there and tell me you don’t want to go.” Edward says, staring him down, daring him to challenge himself._

_“If I do then it’ll be to kill the little bird. I don’t want to be his friend.” Ed spits. A lie, he knows it. He’s already picking out the perfect tie to wear tonight and his mind is definitely not thinking about bringing along a knife to stab his old friend with. Sure, he still felt the betrayal unsettled between them, but the heartbreak had healed long ago._

_“You don’t want to kill him.” A truth. Edward is done trying to be vague and get Ed to think about his deeper feelings. Ed’s other half is right, he doesn’t want to kill Oswald, not anymore at least. Ed hates how right he is._

_Even still, he feels the need to fight against him, “He killed Isabella.”_

_“A woman you knew for a fortnight.”_

_“He froze me in a block of ice.”_

_“But he didn’t kill you. Which is more than he can say for you.”_

_“He displayed me as the centerpiece for his club.”_

_“You love attention anyway.”_

_“I lost my intelligence because of it.”_

_Edward sighs. “Your intelligence isn’t_ lost, _Ed. Just buried. But you already knew that.”_

 _This only makes Ed think of Lee, of her words, of how he could be out living as the Riddler but she’d said she_ liked _who he was. It wasn’t hard for Ed to admit that all he wanted was to be loved, to be accepted._

 _“But she doesn’t accept you, does she?” Edward says, softly, not trying to anger him but trying to make him_ see.

 _“She sees me. She knows me.” Ed says, more for himself than anything else. Even as he says the words all he can hear is Oswald’s voice saying “_ I know you, Ed.”

_“She’s holding you back.” Edward says, “When will you stop dumbing yourself down for a woman who doesn’t even love you back?”_

_“But she_ could! _One day, some day, she might love me back!” Ed is almost desperate. He knows it’s all just excuses._

 _“Oswald saw you, who you truly were. He accepted you, and he_ loved _you, and you threw that all away.” Now Edwards tone is less than polite. He spits the last few words at him._

_Ed doesn’t respond after that, just goes back to ignoring his other half as he gets ready to meet Oswald later._

 

Ed stands in the middle of the Lounge and takes a deep breath.

“He’s on the roof.” Edward supplies, sitting cross legged on the bar.

There’s still time, it’s not too late for him to turn around and leave.

“And what? Stand him up like you did the last time he wanted to talk to you? When you traded in a nice dinner with him to talk to a woman who snared you with a riddle?” Edward sounds bitter.

Ed isn’t sure if he wants to revisit anything at all. He isn’t sure he can just go back to the way things were with Oswald.

“They won’t be the way they were. Neither of you can change what happened. But he made you _stronger._ He won’t hold you back, he won’t judge you. He won’t tie you down. You could burn half of Gotham down just for the hell of it and he wouldn’t bat an eye. All he would do is patch you up and make sure you didn’t get sent to Arkham.” Edward points out.

So Ed sighs. Runs a hand through his hair. Realizes that for as much as he wants to just turn tail and leave, to never speak or associate with Oswald ever again, he can’t help but think there’s too much left unsaid and he’d better go up and at least _talk_ to the man. At the very least he can’t fully move on until he has.

It’s spring in Gotham. Not that it makes much of a difference. There’s still a cool breeze, it still rains all the time, but it’s the thought that counts. New beginnings at all that. There’s speakers up here, soft music beating through them, something to fill the silence, Ed guesses. There’s a table, two chairs, candles, wine, a simple meal that’s on a silver platter. Ed takes his jacket off and puts it over one of the chairs and then turns to the man standing near the edge of the building. Oswald is looking out over the city, cane in his hand.

Ed doesn’t know if he’s heard him yet, walks up to him quietly, stands behind him for a moment.

A moment too long, it appears, when Oswald says, “Are you going to push me, or not?”

He thinks about it. _End it all right now_. But he doesn’t. He steps up beside Oswald and looks out at the bustling city as well.

“I didn’t know if you were actually going to come.” Oswald says, glances at him out of the corner of his eye.

“I didn’t either.” Ed admits.

“Such a beautiful city, don’t you think?” Oswald asks, starting the conversation off in a safe area, “People bustling around, living, loving, lying. There’s tremendous potential here in Gotham, tremendous pain, as well.”

“You really love this city, don’t you?” Ed asks.

Oswald nods, “Despite everything. Despite the deaths of my parents, the betrayal, the pain, the near death experiences, I _love_ this city. There’s too much history here for me not to.”

“I can bring a smile to your face, a tear to your eye, or a thought to your mind. But I can’t be seen. What am I?” Ed says, turning his head to look at Oswald now.

“Memories.” Oswald says, “The memories of us are scattered all across this city.”

“Oswald…”

“Just over there is your old apartment-“ Oswald uses his cane to point- “Where you saved my life and convinced me not to give up, to stay in Gotham and take back my empire… Where we killed together for the first time.”

Oswald’s voice is quieter with that last part, his eyes looking up to meet Ed’s. And he remembers that night- of course he does, it’s seared into his mind- how they’d indulged in darker pleasures, the euphoria and rush of it all. Ed remembers how Oswald looked; bloodied, breathing heavily, leaning against the wall. Ed remembers that Oswald looked so beautiful then, that it was the first time Ed even _considered_ that he might be attracted to him.

Oswald turns back to the city, continues pointing things out, “The Van Dahl mansion is over there, where I gave you a home and you helped me run this city. Where you showed me that I don’t have to _buy_ love… Where you told me you’d do anything for me.”

Ed remembers it all. He remembers all the feelings suddenly, rushing back all at once, and then he’s not thinking about it in terms of “he killed my soulmate” he’s thinking of it in terms of “think of all we’ve been through together”.

“Over there are those _god forsaken_ docks where I gave you my heart and you gave me a bullet wound. Where I took back my heart and froze you.” Oswald takes a moment, takes a breath, “And even everywhere else, always, I see you. I see the banks you’ve robbed, I see the buildings where you killed- I read about your little spree when you thought I was dead, you know- I see you.”

Ed can’t speak, wouldn’t know what to say anyway. Oswald turns to him fully now.

“And a little closer to home, right beneath our feet, is the place where I realized I truly loved you. It’s the place where you exposed Butch’s betrayal. Where you jumped in front of me to save my life and I-“ a hiccupped breath- “held you in my arms and screamed your name because I thought you were dead. Do you remember what you thought that night? Do you remember being on that stage, the flashing cameras, holding each other?”

Ed turns, blinks hard, starts walking away from him, says, “Stop…” more for himself than Oswald because he doesn’t want to think about any of this. It’s easier to stay mad when he doesn’t compare what he had with Oswald to what he had with Isabella. She seems insignificant in comparison, a passing blimp in his life that is surrounded by _Oswald._

Oswald follows him, keeping his distance, but not staying where he was. Ed makes it to the table, leaning onto it, and Oswald is still several feet away.

“I’m sorry.” Oswald says. “I want to start out with that. I want you to _know_ that. I’m sorry. I wish I could erase my selfish acts but I can’t.”

“It’s not all on you, Oswald.” Ed says quietly. Oswald takes several more steps closer to him. “I made mistakes too.”

“Perhaps, but I was the catalyst. I was the cause.” Oswald says, “I was too much of a coward to tell you how I felt and I was too selfish to let you live happily.”

“I wanted you, Oswald.” It’s hard for him to admit and the words come out as barely a whisper but he says them.

Oswald stops, stares, wonders if he heard that correctly.

“If I hadn’t spent so long trying to pick out the perfect wine I never would have met Isabella.” Ed says.

“ _That’s_ why you were late? Initially at least?” Oswald asks, because he’d never known that before. He’d always assumed meeting Isabella happened a lot sooner.

“I was nervous. I didn’t know what you wanted to tell me but I knew that it was important, and I wanted to get the perfect wine for the occasion.” Ed admits.

He’d been _nervous._ Somehow that makes Oswald feel better. But then his mind reverts back to the earlier words, “You wanted me?”

“It had been building for a while. And that night, on your couch, you brought me tea and you had saved my life and I wanted _so desperately_ to kiss you.” Ed has never spoken these things out loud, never confessed them to anyone but himself. It feels good to do so now.

“Why didn’t you?” Oswald asks.

“I didn’t know how you’d react, if you wanted me too.” Ed says, “So I let you guide the situation and you went for a hug.”

“I was going to tell you I loved you. That night you stood me up. I had spent _hours_ practicing what I was going to say to you.” Oswald admits.

They’re quiet for a moment, both of them now remembering too much and not enough. They’re thinking everything over, wondering if there was a missed opportunity after missed opportunity that they just hadn’t seen at the time. And then Oswald steps closer, into Ed’s space, and lifts a hand to trace where the marks on Ed’s neck used to be from when Butch attacked him.

“Do you still feel it sometimes?” He asks, voice soft.

Ed looks down at him, “Yes. Sometimes.”

“So do I.” Oswald tells him, which earns him a confused stare, so he continues, “I’ve had my fair share of people trying to kill me, trying to stab me, or shoot me, or strangle me. But no amount of pain I’ve suffered ever compared to what I suffered for you. Tabby’s whip can leave quite the lasting memory.”

“I… didn’t know.” Ed says, at a loss for words once again. Oswald’s still stroking his neck and now he can conjure up the memories of that night, remember the red line around Oswald’s throat. Twins of the same kind of pain, both suffered in the name of the other.

“I died for you, Edward Nygma.” Oswald says, as if just realizing this fact for the first time. “I didn’t even fight it. I didn’t try to take your gun or plan something to get out of it. You drove me to that pier and I never even protested. I died for you, just because you asked me to.”

Ed swallows down the lump in his throat, his hand reaches up suddenly to grip Oswald’s wrist and the shorter man gasps in surprise. But Ed doesn’t move his hand away, doesn’t reject him, all he does is let his fingers gently caress Oswald’s, running up and down the digits tenderly.

“I never wanted to kill you.” Ed whispers, “Even as I pulled the trigger I didn’t want to do it. I dug myself into a hole, kept saying that you needed to pay, to the point I actually believed it, to the point that not delivering on those words would mean an injustice would go unpunished. But I didn’t want you dead, Oswald.”

“I’m not dead. I came back from the dead for you. Admittedly to kill you, but still, I live because of you.” Oswald says, somehow they’ve drifted closer together.

“I think-“ Ed says, lacing their hands together- “I could forgive you, if you could forgive me.”

“I forgive you.” Oswald says, without a second thought.

“Then I forgive you too.” Ed says.

They’re inches away from each other now, then centimeters. Their noses brush against each other and then Ed can feel Oswald’s breath on his lips. His heart is pounding, he’s acutely aware of everything. And then his mind snaps back, turns to panic, wonders if he’s rushed into anything, wonders what he’s even _doing._ The sheer panic that suddenly rips through him tears their hands apart and then he’s running from Oswald, off the roof and down the stairs and out the building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raise your hand if you're also, just a *bit*, still bitter about the Lee/Ed plotline...


	4. Falling, Falling, Crashing, Crashing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let us take a moment for a chapter or two to quickly rewrite canon <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should really stop apologizing for the late updates but I'm going to say it again, sorry!! And apologies in advance for anything that seems a bit OOC: i was writing this while rewatching Hannibal...

They weren’t avoiding each other, exactly, it was just that they hadn’t had the chance to see each other in a while. Not either of their faults, Ed was taking the time to analyze his feelings and try once again to reconnect his two halves while things with Sofia and Oswald had grown to a dangerous level far too fast.

They weren’t avoiding each other, exactly, which is exactly what they told themselves despite what had happened on the roof. Ed knew that he had feelings or Oswald, he wasn’t going to ignore that, not anymore, but he didn’t know if he wanted to give his heart over to someone else. Truth be told he was worried what would happen. He was worried it would be too good, that he would fall in love, that one day someone would figure out what Oswald meant to Ed and hurt him. Ed didn’t want that, but he didn’t want to be alone forever either.

Oswald threw himself into his conflict with Sofia, too many conflicting thoughts about Ed to deal with right now and Sofia was getting closer to destroying him. He had to focus all his brainpower on taking her down, even if it meant ignoring his heart. Ed meant too much to him to lose, but at the same time he couldn’t let his heart lead him wherever, he had a kingdom to protect. Ed and his own feelings were going to have to wait.

~~~

Oswald had been thrown into Arkham once again, the blow knocking him back down to the bottom of the ladder. It was torture, being in that place again- the screaming, the cold of the cell, the torture of Jerome. His only saving grace had been when Ed came, a break from the torment.

Neither of them really think when they see each other, as soon as the door closes and they’re left alone together Oswald ends up in Ed’s arms. It’s nice to just listen to Ed’s heartbeat for a moment, to smell his shirt, to close his eyes and pretend that he isn’t in this godforsaken place. To let Ed’s scent and arms and the feeling of a solid person against him convince his mind that he isn’t suffering.

When they pull away from each other that’s when Ed sees the bruises and cuts on Oswald’s face. He touches them lightly, “You’re hurt.”

Oswald flinches, not because Ed has pressed too hard on a bruise, but because he hates to acknowledge it. “Last time I was here Strange was in charge and the source of my abuse. It seems Arkham is under new management and he has the same inclination.”

Ed tilts his head to the side, “Who?”

“Jerome has taken over the asylum.” Oswald says, voice quiet.

Ed looks horrified. “I’m going to get you out of here. I just… need to finalize a few things in the plan.”

Oswald nods. What Ed doesn’t tell him is that he’s trying to get his other half to connect with him. He’s smart on his own, sure, but he needs that extra bit of creativity that the Riddler brings in order to do this.

Ed leaves Oswald with the reassurance that he’ll get him out of hell soon.

~~~

When Ed goes back to his apartment to talk to his other self it’s shorter than he expected. And in the end he ends up agreeing to let the Riddler take over for a time. He remembers going to Arkham again. He remembers Oswald’s hands on him, remembers the way he spoke his name- _Riddler-_ , remembers touching Oswald’s face. But he doesn’t remember taking control again. It comes almost naturally, subtly, like the Riddler gave up control. But he would never do that…

“Oh thank god.” Oswald’s words come out in a sort of plea.

Ed is standing in Arkham with Oswald rushing toward him. He’s confused, until he remembers his entire plan, until he remembers that he’s here to get Oswald out. Oswald is against his chest, his hand is in Oswald’s hair. He presses Oswald more firmly against himself, reassuringly.

“Zsasz is outside with his little friend. We have to go.” Ed says softly. He breaks away from Oswald then, leading him out of Arkham.

~~~

Ed’s jaw aches. They stumble into the car Oswald had driven to get to the docks and Ed takes the drivers seat. Oswald’s exhaustion overtakes him almost immediately. Ed just drives to the only place he can think of where they’ll both be safe. The dried blood is uncomfortable on his skin and his thigh burns but he pushes all of it out of his mind. Instead he focuses on driving, and throwing occasional glances at the man sleeping beside him.

“Love is about sacrifice.” The voice of Edward is startling, causing Ed to swerve slightly.

“Your point?” Ed says quietly, not wanting to wake Oswald.

“Sofia took away his empire, turned everyone against him, and got him thrown back in Arkham. Killing her, getting his revenge, meant _everything_ to him. And he traded that in to save your life.” Edward says.

Ed looks at his alter ego through the rearview mirror. He’s sitting cross-legged in the backseat, looking as smug as ever.

“I don’t pretend to know Oswald’s motivations.” Ed says.

Edward rolls his eyes. “We both know he’s ruled by his heart. And what does it say about his heart that he chose you?”

“He loves me. I know he does. And I know that I feel _something_ for him too, so don’t even start with that.” Ed says.

“Good. I was beginning to think you were going to refuse your feelings forever.” Edward smiles.

“I couldn’t deny anything after that night on the rooftop.” Ed admits to himself.

“I know. I thought so too until you started pushing down the memory of that night unconsciously.”

“I didn’t-”

“Doesn’t matter. As long as you’re acknowledging it now.” Edward says.

And then they’re at the Van Dahl Manor and Edward is gone.

Oswald is awoken from his unintentional nap to find himself looking at the Manor he thought he’d left behind. He and Ed get out of the car and walk into the house and Oswald breathes it all in. After he’d opened up his lounge he’d started spending his nights there, too many memories for him to deal with, and too big of a space for just him.

Oswald hesitates at the door and Ed turns back to him, wondering if this was the wrong place to come to. “We can go somewhere else, if you like.”

Oswald shakes his head. “I’m fine. We should get you cleaned up.”

“I can do that on my own, you know,” Ed says even as Oswald pushes his way past him and toward the kitchen, “You should really get some rest.”

Oswald finds a bowl, fills it with warm water, then locates a rag. “I want to thank you for saving my life. Let me take care of you… please?”

Ed nods, “Okay. Okay.”

They move to the dining room, to the table, where Ed sits and Oswald starts to clean the dried blood from Ed’s face. This close up Ed can see the tiredness in Oswald’s eyes, can see the weight of all that’s happened. Ed is overcome with the need to comfort him, to hold him, to take down anyone who would stand against him because Oswald has been through far too much and he finds it unfair that he’s had to face almost all of it alone. His anger flares up in him, and then dissipates almost as fast because Oswald is smiling down at him.

“What?” Ed asks, confused.

Oswald shakes his head, “Nothing. It’s nice to have a moment of peace, is all.”

 _A moment of peace._ Ed can feel when Oswald finishes getting the blood from his skin and when he moves away Ed catches the end of his sleeve. Oswald looks down at him, confused, until Ed starts to pull him closer. Oswald leans down, a hand coming to rest on Ed’s chest, and they’re inches apart. And then centimeters, Ed’s eyes slip closed and then he can feel the heat radiating off of Oswald. He swallows, hungry for Oswald’s lips.

And then he panics.

Is this really what he wants?

If he does this will it end horribly?

“You should get some rest.” Ed whispers, opening his eyes, looking up at Oswald opening his own.

He backs away a bit, “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

He clears his throat, shakes himself, then leaves the room. Ed sighs, waits for his other self to reprimand him or tease him but it never happens.

 

Oswald wakes several hours later in his old bed. It’s strange, being back here, even stranger still to have Ed somewhere in the house. It’s familiar and unfamiliar all at once. Twice now they’ve almost kissed and the connection between them is only getting deeper, stronger. Oswald can feel his control slipping. If Ed pulls away one more time he might just break something.

The only clothes he can find that aren’t his suits are the pajamas Ed gave him when he stayed in his apartment after he’d been shot. Ed had let him keep them because he didn’t really have anything else and he couldn’t bear to go back to his mothers house to get any of his things. He wears the sweats and throws on a white t-shirt and heads downstairs.

 

Ed finds himself stumbling down the stairs close to dawn. He hadn’t slept for very long or very well thanks to the dull ache he still feels in his jaw and thigh. What he finds downstairs is Oswald, sitting on the couch by the fire, with an icepack on his leg. Oswald turns when he hears Ed enter the room.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asks.

Ed just nods, walks around to the other side of the couch, and leans down in front of Oswald. “You should take more care of yourself.”

He takes the icepack off of his leg and gently moves it so he can massage the muscles. Oswald sighs and relaxes, “I have too much to worry about to take care of myself.”

“Maybe you need someone to do it for you.” Ed says softly.

Oswald looks down at him, tilts his head, “Do you mean you?”

“Do you want me to mean me?” Ed asks, looking up at him with a smirk.

Oswald just rolls his eyes, and doesn’t push the subject. They’re quiet until Ed says, “You gave up your revenge for me.”

“Doesn’t matter. Word is Lee shot Sofia in the head, my empire is open for the taking and I didn’t even have to get my hands dirty.” Oswald says.

“That’s not what I meant.” Ed says, “I meant, thank you. I meant, you didn’t have to. I meant, you have no reason to trust me after all I’ve done.”

“And you have no reason to trust me. And yet here we are.” Oswald points out.

“I told you once that love is weakness.” Ed says.

“I remember.” Oswald says.

“I’m worried one of us will end up dead if we allow ourselves to be together.” Ed finally stops his ministrations and sits up, planting himself between Oswald’s legs.

“One of us already has.” Oswald reminds him, “We can take care of ourselves, Ed.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Ed whispers.

Oswald leans closer to him, “We’re not normal people, Ed. If we did this we would rule Gotham together. We’d be kings. No one would be able to touch us.”

Ed’s hands rest on Oswald’s thighs. His mind is racing. His heat is pounding. He’s filled with want and need and hunger and he wants to be rational but he’s finding it very difficult, especially with Oswald’s hands now on his shoulders and moving to behind his neck. They should talk about this further, they should really think about things.

Ed doesn’t want to.

His control flies completely out of the window as he looks at Oswald. He can’t stop himself any longer from kissing him. He presses his lips to Oswald’s, grips his thighs tight, let’s himself mold into Oswald. One of Oswald’s hands finds it’s way into his hair and the other one grips the back of his neck while he works his way into Ed’s mouth, exploring, tasting. Ed whines in spite of himself. Oswald breaks away from him, panting, before kissing a path down Ed’s chin to get to his neck and draw a moan from him.

“Oswald…” Ed breathes, as he lets himself fall completely.

**Author's Note:**

> Been toying with this since December- I'm counting on you guys to hold me to finishing this story <3


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